


A New Beginning

by Setcheti



Category: Batman - All Media Types, The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, Magnificent Seven AU: ATF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5090585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setcheti/pseuds/Setcheti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A violent and completely unexpected altercation with the rest of the team leads Ezra and JD in a surprising direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A knock at the door interrupted Ezra's brown study of the sherry in his glass, but he didn't get up. "Go away!" he called out tiredly. "There is nothing more to be discussed!"

"Ezra, it's me." JD's voice came hesitantly past the heavy wooden barrier. "I'm alone and…Ezra, I know where you were this past month and I'm sorry I didn't stick up for you in front of the others, but considering the situation I didn't think you'd want me to say anything."

Silence. JD was ready to turn away from the door in defeat when he heard the tumblers of the heavy deadbolt clicking back into their sockets. The door swung open to reveal a very worn and worried-looking Ezra Standish. "You were right; that was a good call. Thank you."

"Can I come in?" The Southerner stepped back and gestured his acquiescence, closing and securing the door again once his young friend was inside. "I…I thought you might need some company after what just happened."

"Correct again," Ezra sighed. "I hate to admit it, but having had…friends to talk to over the course of the past thirty-seven days has rather spoiled me, and part of me was naively hoping that I was returning to a similar situation." He poured a second glass of sherry and handed it to the younger man, then reclaimed his seat on the couch and raised his own glass in toast. "To naiveté."

JD raised his glass as well, but his face was troubled. "They were way out of line, Ezra. We've all been worried about you, but that isn't an excuse for what happened here tonight. And I saw the paperwork, your leave was unconditionally approved; Chris doesn't have the right to suspend you until you tell him where you've been."

To his surprise, the older man chuckled. "Oh never fear, JD; I'll be back at work in a day or two - late as usual, of course, in order to preserve the illusion of normalcy - and the formidable Mr. Larabee will have nothing to say although I'm certain his glare will speak volumes." He saw JD's confusion and smiled. "My friend takes care of his own - subtly, of course, as befits a man in his position, but I have no doubt the issue will be resolved before morning."

"How long have you known him?" JD wanted to know. "How long have you been…"

"Years," was the answer, accompanied by a noncommittal shrug. "I originally assisted as a stand-in for his partner due to my comparatively small stature, but that became unnecessary over time. And on this occasion…"

"He got hurt and you had to fill in for _him_ ," the younger man finished for him gravely, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. It was JD's turn to shrug. "He's always been a hero of mine, I try to keep up with the news. Is he all right?"

Ezra's hand tightened dangerously around the fragile glass. "He's getting old," he said softly. "He can't bounce back the way he used to anymore." Draining the last of his sherry, the undercover agent sank a little deeper into the couch. "How did you know it was me?"

"It was nothing anyone else would have picked up on," JD assured him quickly. "But a few weeks ago I saw a news picture of him taking a mugger into custody and I recognized the look you were giving him - I saw you snarl at a perp that way once because he'd tried to use his girlfriend's baby as a shield." He cocked his head. "What did this guy do?"

"Shoved a child off the sidewalk into a busy street in his attempt to escape capture - I almost didn't get there in time." Ezra toyed with the empty glass, brooding on the close call…among other things. "He wants me to take his place."

JD straightened slowly, eyes wide. "He wants you to take over for him?"

"Everything," Ezra confirmed. "I was unsure when he first proposed the idea to me. It would mean moving to Gotham, of course, and my life would change drastically - not in all ways for the better. But there was really only one thing holding me back from accepting his offer then and there." His eyes strayed to the television lying blank and broken against the far wall, seeing again the explosive confrontation which had put it there. "And now that has proven to be no obstacle at all," he finished bleakly.

"I'd have to agree with you." JD was looking at the broken television too. "I was just shocked when they all reacted that way, and when I tried to say something to Buck about it afterward he shoved me and told me that 'being wide-eyed and stupid stopped being cute a year ago'." He saw Ezra stiffen and shook his head. "No, don't get mad, I'm used to it - just like you are."

The other man stared at him for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "That still doesn't make it right."

"No," JD agreed quietly. He drank some more of his sherry, enjoying the gentle warmth it spread through his body. "This is good stuff."

"The best. A parting gift from Al…from one of my friends, as well as a delicate inducement to return - he knows this particular vintage is my favorite."

"I can see why." Silence fell between them, comfortable but heavy with thought. Finally JD said, "You should do it, Ez. I can't think of anyone better to take on the job, and you sure as hell deserve better treatment than you're getting here."

Ezra just stared at him again for a moment, then leaned forward to set his glass on the coffee table, running his fingers lightly over the recently created crack in its surface as he did so. "So do you, JD; you are consistently undervalued by those we work with. You should be somewhere where your insight and intelligence will garner you the respect you deserve."

JD chuckled. "I guess I could move to Gotham when you do and apply at Wayne Industries, see if they'd hire me. We could do lunch sometime."

To his surprise, however, Ezra didn't smile; in fact, his expression grew gravely serious. "You would… _willingly_ live in Gotham City? Even with all the problems they have because of the Asylum?"

"That's why they have Batman," the younger man replied slowly, wondering at the intense look in his friend's green eyes. "I trust him; he's more than a match for a bunch of loonies any day."

"Oh, they're much more than that," Ezra said, half to himself. He frowned, and then appeared to make a decision. "JD, Arkham Asylum is not just a mental institution, it is something far more sinister - and it is no coincidence that so many of its inmates are so…freakish." He sighed and sat back again. "What I'm about to tell you…it is very dangerous information, I'd go so far as to say it is the kind of knowledge that can be the death of a person. The Asylum is not run by Mental Health or any other benign entity of that ilk; Arkham Asylum is run by the CIA, it is a testing ground for some of the most unspeakable research ever conceived by the human mind." He smiled slightly at JD's suddenly calculating expression, seeing the wheels turning as the new information was processed and connected with already known facts. "Have you never wondered why the local law, not to mention the government, allow a dangerous vigilante like Batman to roam the streets of the city unchecked? They need him, you see; he is their only line of defense against the evil that festers within the Asylum's stone walls, the only individual capable of stopping the monsters that periodically escape - or that are let go. He is even subsidized for his activities, after a fashion, and the powers that be in and around the city go to great lengths to protect his identity. The city of Gotham, you see, is the site of one of the largest ongoing government conspiracies in the history of this country."

JD processed that, and a new thought occurred to him. _Conspiracy_ … "Ez, this was behind the rumors that started when you were with the FBI, wasn't it? They never could trace any of the allegations and no evidence to support anything was ever uncovered, but the more they tried to clear it up the worse it got."

Ezra smiled again. "I had a feeling you had researched my case even though Mr. Larabee never bothered to; I believe it was easier for him to justify using me for a scapegoat so long as there remained some doubt in his mind as to my veracity. And yes, that debacle with the Bureau was a little vengeance enacted on me by the friends of an enemy I assisted Batman to neutralize. My immediate superiors _did_ attempt some damage control - to salvage their own reputations if not mine - but all their efforts proved counterproductive and they eventually joined the ranks of my accusers." He shook himself free of the memory of those dark times with an effort and went back to more immediate concerns. "JD, do Buck and the others know where you are right now?"

"No, they're at the bar," was the disgusted answer. "When I left they probably figured I went back home or out to ride my bike, and since we both know they won't leave until Inez kicks them out Buck won't even be home until one or two. But if you're asking me to deny I was here, I won't do it; you're my friend, and I don't deny my friends no matter what goes down."

"Nor do I," Ezra agreed quietly. He appeared to reach another decision. "JD, would you like to come with me? If you stay here I can guarantee you will be replacing me as the team whipping boy, and to be honest…I could use your help. I cannot do his job alone."

JD's mouth dropped open. "You…you're asking me to be your sidekick? Like Robin, or Nightwing?"

"No, I'm asking you to be my _partner_ ," Ezra corrected. "Perhaps even _my_ stand-in, if necessary - but you'll have a lot of training to do before you're ready for that. What I need, though, is someone who knows me, someone I can trust implicitly to watch my back…someone who I know cannot be turned against me."

There was the echo of bitter experience in his voice, and JD felt humbled by the trust his friend was putting in him. "When do we leave?"

Ezra leaned forward again. "Just like that? You're sure?"

"I'm sure," JD assured him with a grin, leaning forward himself to put a hand on Ezra's arm. "Ez, you're offering me the chance of a lifetime here; I have nothing to lose by accepting it. And I trust _you_ implicitly too."

"You don't know how much that means to me." The Southerner covered JD's hand with his own, and there were tears in his green eyes. "And we could leave whenever is convenient for you; how much packing will you need to do? I can assist you, but we should probably accomplish that end of things before Mr. Wilmington returns home…" His cell phone rang and he quickly pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open; seeing the number he grinned widely and answered. "I wondered if you were listening. No, I am unharmed; most of the physical violence was aimed at my furnishings and not my person…well yes, there was that, but it caused no discomfort two aspirin and a glass of sherry couldn't alleviate." He listened a moment more, nodding. "Certainly." Pulling the phone away from his ear, he held it out to JD. "He wants to talk to you."

JD took the small phone gingerly. What do you call Batman on the phone anyway? "Um, hello…sir."

A deep voice on the other end laughed. "You can call me Bruce - or Mr. Wayne if it makes you more comfortable. Ezra has told us a lot about you, JD; it will be a pleasure to finally meet you in person. Would tonight be too soon?"

"Tonight…" JD looked a question at Ezra, who nodded. "Tonight would be fine, Mr. Wayne. Um, I can run over to the apartment and Ez can help me get my stuff…"

"Master Ezra most certainly will _not_!" a new voice with a British accent insisted sharply, and JD realized that they must be on an open speaker. "Your pardon, Master John, but lugging boxes about will only exacerbate injuries no doubt already added to by the evening's earlier rough handling. You are on your motorcycle tonight?" At JD's stammered affirmative the man said, "Very well, I will go arrange things now. Someone will be at Master Ezra's within thirty minutes time to take you to retrieve your possessions before your roommate returns. And I have your word that you won't allow Master Ezra to lift anything?"

"Yes, sir," the young man replied. He shot a frown at the undercover agent. "If I'd known he was hurt I would've stepped in before, when things started to get out of hand."

"I am certain you would have," the British voice said approvingly. "I shall look forward to meeting you, Master John; it will be good to have a young person in the house again."

Bruce chuckled. "That was Alfred, sorry JD; he's the one who alerted me a little while ago that there was a problem and he's been worried sick about Ezra ever since. You mentioned Mr. Wilmington pushed you around some as well, are you all right?"

The comment confirmed JD's dawning suspicion that they had Ezra's condo bugged, from the sound of things more for the Southerner's protection than due to any fear of a security breach. "I'm fine, Mr. Wayne - he didn't hurt me."

"Good." A hint of gravel in the word let JD know that things might not have gone too well for Buck if his answer had been different, and he wondered briefly how things were going to go for Chris. "You're sure you're all right with all this? I don't want to rush you, but I didn't expect them to react quite so violently either and I have to say the implications are worrying me quite a bit - as a matter of fact, the man Alfred will be sending over to help you will also back you up if Mr. Wilmington returns early and has a problem with your leaving." Bruce chuckled again, and a smile appeared in his deep voice. "And if it comes to that, just tell him you've been recruited for a position with Wayne Industries and we insisted you start immediately; technically it's true, and if you ever _had_ applied we would have hired you in a heartbeat. Tell Ezra I'll be there in a few hours, all right?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Wayne," JD answered, smiling himself. "And Mr. Wayne…thanks."

"You're welcome, JD. See you later."

JD slowly closed up the phone and handed it back to Ezra. "He said he'll be here in a few hours," he told the undercover agent. "And Alfred is sending someone to help me get my stuff, he says you're not supposed to lift anything."

"Alfred is a mother-hen," Ezra informed him. "He will be certain to ask, though, so I shall be equally certain to obey him; the man has an absolutely uncanny ability to tell when someone is not being completely honest with him, and he has ways of getting even with me that I'd prefer not to think about." He essayed a mock shudder, but JD could see that the 'mother hen's' protectiveness was appreciated more than the Southerner was letting on. "You didn't seem surprised by Batman's true identity."

"I was, a little," JD admitted. "But it made sense, especially after what you told me; you said the government 'subsidized' Batman for what he does, and Wayne Industries has never been turned down for any government contract they've bid on, which even though they _are_ the best is just unheard of in the industry." He decided he could play the subject-changing game too. "How hurt are you, Ez?"

Ezra shrugged. "Bruises and a few cracked ribs, nothing overly serious - rather run of the mill for the job I was doing, at that." He did let himself sink a little deeper into the couch, however, trying to ease the persistent ache of his injuries. "I am very glad you're coming with me, JD," he admitted honestly. "I found the idea of leaving you here alone most dismaying."

"I would have missed you," the younger man answered in kind. "And I probably wouldn't have stuck around too long once you were gone; since Team 7 was started you've been the only man on it who treated me like the professional they hired to do the job and not like some wet-behind-the-ears kid."

"Perhaps that was just because I recognized you as the author of one of the security programs the Bureau uses," the Southerner said with a smile. "You are also listed as a consultant to the design team for some of the surveillance equipment we use in the field - the same equipment Mr. Wilmington often claims superior knowledge of when you disagree with him." His smile slipped a little. "I really should go with you…"

"Mr. Wayne said the guy Alfred is sending is also my backup in case Buck comes back early," JD reassured him, hoping the precaution wouldn't be necessary. "He said he was worried about the implications of what happened tonight."

"As am I," was the soft, troubled response. Ezra sighed tiredly. "When a group of individuals whose behavior you should be able to predict with some certainty begin to react in a concertedly uncharacteristic manner, it is a definite sign that trouble is brewing. We shall have to keep an eye on the situation from afar, however, as I believe we can currently be of more use elsewhere."

"Yeah, I'd say you're right." JD picked up his sherry again and leaned back in the chair. "You know, I always wondered what would happen when I left here, where I'd be going and what I'd be doing; I never in a million years would have imagined it like this." He smiled at his friend and raised his glass. "To a new beginning."

The warmth and hope in that smile warmed the undercover agent better than the false glow of alcohol ever could. _This is why we need you most, JD_ , he thought fondly. _Not only for your knowledge, skill and loyalty; we need your boundless optimism, to remind three jaded men that they serve a greater purpose than simply battling an endless surfeit of monsters_. Ezra echoed the smile and lifted his own empty glass to clink it gently against JD's. "A new beginning."


	2. Chapter 2

JD sat hunched over the control panel with his attention split between two screens and a radar-tracking display. “Okay, go north…now take a right at the third block and then a hard right into the alley, maybe we can surprise him…” On one screen a driver’s-eye view showed the instructions being followed while the radar showed a blip heading for the same alley from the opposite direction. “Okay, he’s coming…” The blip abruptly disappeared from the screen, and JD cursed. “Dammit! Get out of there now, he disappeared again. We’ll have to try something else tomorrow.” 

“All right, I’m heading back,” Ezra replied over the tiny mic embedded in his cowl. “Set up all the recordings we’ve made so far, I just know we must be missing something.” 

“I’ll have it ready when you get here,” the younger man replied. “Don’t take the Fourth Avenue exit, there’s a traffic pileup because of that new movie opening tonight.” Ezra snorted and thanked him, and then the line went mostly silent; for safety reasons, the communication system was always ‘on’ at Ezra’s end. JD just smiled and started pulling up the digital recordings and associated data. They’d already seen the latest blockbuster a week ago, advance screenings being one of the privileges of wealth and position that Bruce pretty much took for granted. 

That thought made him pause. Bruce. It had taken JD a while to get used to the man behind his hero, but living under the same roof with him had hastened the process. Bruce was prone to wandering around Wayne Manor in his pajama bottoms when he was tired, and he invariably made a mess in the kitchen if he got hungry – Alfred had told JD, in front of his boss, that he had never been able to teach his charge how to cook. Ezra, too, was more relaxed around the mansion than JD had ever seen him before, although he was wont to throw a robe over his pajamas for added warmth where Bruce was apparently used to the lingering chill that haunted the thick stone walls. It had taken him a while, but he’d finally figured out that both men let their guard down so far at home – and the mansion certainly was that – because they couldn’t do it any place else. 

Wayne Manor was a veritable fortress through construction alone, and after JD had gotten his hands on the already near-flawless security system the thought of a break-in had become ludicrous at best. There’d been a few in the past who’d made it inside the stone walls uninvited, but the only way they’d manage it now would be with a military air strike – and even then, all they’d accomplish would be demolishing the manor itself and cutting themselves off from ever getting into the protected areas underneath it. Which would be where JD, Bruce, Ezra and Alfred would be sitting, calmly drinking Alfred’s cocoa and watching the show from the satellite monitors while they decided what to do next. 

Bruce and Ezra’s fatalism had taken getting used to as well, but JD had to admit the two older men had earned the right to it over the years. Down in the Batcave he’d watched footage of things that had made him afraid of the dark again, things that had kept him awake and made him jump at shadows for days. Alfred was the one who had helped him with that; it was one thing, he’d said, to know there was evil in the world, but it was quite another to see it up close. And working with Batman meant you got to see it up close on a regular basis. The butler had then insisted on watching the tapes with JD in the future. “No, Master John,” he’d said gravely when JD protested. “Your idea of familiarizing yourself with the evil that slithers out of Arkham was a wise one; evil often returns, even from apparently beyond the grave. The more we know about it, the less likely we will be to miss some vital detail if it begins to surface again.” 

Alfred had been right, as usual, and between the two of them they’d spotted enough vital details to make the exercise well worth the effort. It had even given them a lead on what had gone wrong in Denver. 

And something had gone wrong in Denver…just like it had gone wrong in Atlanta. Brainwashing instead of just rumors, this time, and drugs had most likely been involved too. They’d even tracked down the point from which it had started: a long weekend the other men had spent at Chris’s ranch right after Ezra had taken his leave to go help Bruce. JD normally would have been at the ranch with them, but at the last minute he’d gotten a call from a friend who needed his help and had flown out to L.A. instead. It made him shudder to know he’d come that close…and to know that he’d been working side by side with the other five men afterwards without knowing anything had happened to them. Hell, he’d been living with Buck! JD had talked to Ezra about that, and Ezra had insisted there wasn’t anything he could have noticed that would have tipped him off. “It was me they were programmed against,” he’d reassured the younger man. “Until you sided with me that night, their programming did not involve you at all and therefore they did not act any differently around you than normal.” He’d sighed then, slumping back in his chair. “It is difficult to wait, I know; they are our friends. But to interfere now would alert our enemies, and we are not yet prepared to take them head-on.” 

“Not to mention, we don’t want them to decide ATF Team Seven needs to be liquidated,” Bruce had added seriously from the depths of his own leather recliner. “Trust us, JD. As soon as we can safely get the five of them out, we’ll move on it.” 

That had been a few months ago. Right now, Gotham’s latest monster had Batman out every night trying to catch it; wraithlike, with sharp ripping claws, it had a taste for silver and didn’t have a problem with taking the semi-precious metal wherever it could find it. Including out of the nearest innocent bystander’s fillings – two people had already been killed, and one young girl Batman had barely gotten to in time was in the hospital undergoing extensive plastic surgery…and having her shiny silvery braces replaced with ceramic ones. Even worse, this monster wasn’t something that had wriggled out of Arkham, it had apparently been drawn to Gotham _by_ Arkham. 

Which meant there could be more of them. Which meant Arkham might not be as unique as they’d thought it was. 

Which meant that someday, Batman might not be enough.


End file.
